


Rainbow Daisies

by Coeurire



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Asexual Character, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Gravity Falls: Summerhome, Lesbian Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Soulmate AU, Summerhome, aka friends to girlfriends, because of course they are it's a mabifica fic., last one is because pacifica's parents are involved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21808951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coeurire/pseuds/Coeurire
Summary: Soulmate AU where every seed you plant grows a copy near your soulmate. The seedlings are tough and sprout just about anywhere. Of course, some people never see a seedling growing in an odd place and are completely happy with it, because they have no interest in a soulmate.Mabel Pines is not one of those people.
Relationships: Dipper Pines/Laurent Blubbs-Durland, Pacifica Northwest/Mabel Pines
Comments: 21
Kudos: 125





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually an "AU of an AU"--it incorporates characters and concepts from rainbowtubastudios' Summerhome AU! Thanks for letting me use your content.

Mabel was lying halfway off the edge of her bed playing Animal Crossing and sending a scowl in Dipper’s general direction. They were in the middle of the same argument they’d had dozens of times. And she was in the middle of shaking the apples off a tree to give to her favorite little cat villager. 

This time, it was the Venus flytrap that a beaming Dipper had brought into their room from the Mystery Shack just after breakfast. It gleamed in the sunlight, a strange bright green. “It was growing right in between the floorboards!” he had said, his voice full of sunshine and rainbows and his eyes shining brighter than the contents of Mabel’s closet, as he rooted around in his own for a spare flowerpot to put the thing in.  
“Oh wow! That’s...that’s great!” Mabel had said, trying to hide the jealousy in her voice. She genuinely was happy for her brother; it seemed like whoever his soulmate was, he or she was really into botany, so they would have nerd shit to bond over. It was just hard not to wish that even just once, she would see something--a single daisy, a rose, a weed--growing near her in a spot that plants don’t normally grow. “Yay, Dipper’s soulmate!”  
But Dipper had recognized the tone in her voice. “Aren’t you excited for me?”  
“Of course! Of COURSE I’m excited,” Mabel had said, laughing nervously. “I hope I get some of that lovin’ too, soon, you know? Haha! But I’m so happy.” 

Dipper wasn’t buying it. And thus the lecture on dependency had begun. “I’m telling you, Mabel,” Dipper was saying now, “first of all, you don’t even _need_ a soulmate, and second of all, they probably just don’t like gardening. And third of all--and most importantly--” He looked up from his flowerpot to point a finger at her, to emphasize his seriousness. “We’re only fifteen. It took Soos, like, thirty years to start seeing plants. And he’s doing fine!” 

Mabel chased around a virtual butterfly with a butterfly net. “Easy for you to say,” she huffed. “I just think it’s not fair that _some_ of us have had annoying little science-fair plants cluttering up their twins’ rooms since the first grade, and some of us get nothin’.” She sighed dramatically. “I can’t even get Waddles to poop out a watermelon seed so I can see if it grows a watermelon near Gompers so I can know if they’ll be together fur-ever.” She emphasized the _fur_. 

“Mabel, that is the grossest thing I’ve ever heard.” Dipper sighed. “I just think you need to stop obsessing over this. I can stop telling you when I get new plants if you wa--”  
“NO!” The last thing Mabel wanted was for Dipper to not want to talk about his life with her, even if that meant reminding her of her own hopeless, tragic, late-bloomer of a soulmate--or maybe even soulmate-less-ness, but she didn’t want to think about that. “I’m sorry for being all sad and mopey,” she said, flopping over the bed further to emphasize her mopiness. 

“I do like your soulmate’s plants,” she added. “They add a certain _je ne foie gras.”_

“Mabel, that means ‘I don’t steak’.”

“Close enough. I just mean, I’m sorry for...making this about me.” Her cheeks flushed; it was only when she said that that she realized it was what she had been doing. “I really am happy for you. I swear. I just...I dunno, I wanna find my future husband.” 

“I know, Mabel,” Dipper said. “Do you want to help me feed my Venus flytrap?” 

“I am NOT killing a bug!” 

“Come on, help me look for ants.” He grinned. “Ooh! There’s one! Let’s watch it get murdered!” 

Mabel ran out of the room, laughing but also kind of freaked out by the prospect of Dipper watching an ant get murdered. She’d seen way, _way_ worse, but still. When she reached the outside of the Mystery Shack (with a quick “Hi, Stan!” to her grunkle, who grumbled back a good-morning greeting that was really more about the cracks in the floorboards) she was still thinking about her soulmate, wherever he was. She hoped he was just a hot guy who was too busy getting with hot girls to take care of plants. No, no other girls--maybe he was in a boy band and he couldn’t ever be seen with dirt on his fingers, for the sake of his image. She liked that idea. Some nice, absolutely perfect, gorgeous guy who was already a teen idol and would parade her around the world. He’d braid flowers in her hair and grin with blindingly white teeth, and people would chant both of their names! _“Mystery Guy! Mystery Guy! Mystery Guy!” “Ma-bel! Ma-bel! Ma-bel!”_

“Mabel. Mabel?” Mabel was shaken out of her daydream by a blonde jerk--blonde _former_ jerk--standing in front of her. She looked nervous, fidgeting with the sleeves on her bazillion-dollar sweater that wouldn’t have kept her even a little bit warm if it had been cold out, so it was good that it was approximately eighty degrees. Mabel made a mental note to knit her another sweater. She also made a mental note of her haircut. It wasn’t the _really_ short cut Pacifica had kept saying she wanted, the one that had her texting Mabel middle-of-the-night pictures of short-haired celebrities like once a week, but it was a bob. Mabel wondered if it was some sort of in-between step. Or maybe she just got gum in her hair.

“Hi, Paz,” she chirped. She was still a little down, but when she was down, she didn’t like showing it to anyone but Dipper. And _occasionally_ Wendy. “What’s up?” 

“Not much.” She fidgeted for another few seconds. “Um, I was wondering if I could hang out here today? Like all day? And if my parents come by I’m not here and you haven’t seen me and I’m probably at the mall with my school friends?”

Oy. Mabel didn’t want to think about what had necessitated this. “Absolutely! Mabel at your service!” She grinned ear to ear. “I’m a really bad liar, though, so if they come by we’re going to have to send my grunkle.” 

Pacifica smiled back, a sad smile that tugged at Mabel’s heart for some reason. “Cool. Hey, thanks.” She glanced around nervously, as if worried her family would show up right that second. “Can we go around back?”

“Do you want me to teach you how to drive the golf cart?” Soos had almost totally fixed it this time. He said there was only about a twenty, maybe twenty-five, percent chance that the engine would stop suddenly and send them all hurtling to their deaths, and only a ten percent chance it would blow up completely. So of course she had to take advantage of that. 

Now Pacifica’s smile was genuine. “Only if we get to do donuts.”

“Uh, _duh._ Is there any other reason to ride a golf cart? Last one there has to get out and push when we inevitably get stuck in the mud!” Mabel took off running through the yard, laughing, with Pacifica close behind.

Pacifica reached the golf cart last, but she didn’t mind. She was always up for an excuse to get in some mud. Especially today. Which was sort of ironic, considering the topic of today’s family blowout fight.

It was about hanging out with “peasants.” More specifically, _going_ out with “peasants.” Even more specifically, the uncomfortable topic of the flowers, vegetables, fruits, and occasional saplings that seemed to follow her wherever she went. They horrified her parents, partly because the plants’ stubbornness frequently led them to wreck the house, but mostly for another reason. 

“Pacifica,” Priscilla had said. Her brow would have furrowed if there was enough natural skin left in it to actually furrow. She had looked nothing like her daughter in that moment, her perfectly sculpted cheekbones and carefully applied makeup making her look like a lost Greek goddess, Pacifica’s baby fat, budding pimples, and stubborn insistence on wearing less makeup (“only” foundation, eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss today; a victory nonetheless) standing in stark contrast. Her parents had been begging her to get more plastic surgery 

“You know the whole idea of soulmates,” Priscilla had continued, “is sort of a superstition of the lower classes. Ever since the beginning of time, kings and queens have married each other with no regard for ridiculous magical thinking. And we’ve been perfectly misera--happy all that time.” 

“Your mother is right,” Preston had added. “We’ve no time for any of that nonsense. And you’ll recall, neither of us had had any encounters with plants growing in strange places. And do you know why?” 

Pacifica had never thought of this. “I dunno,” she said. “Why?”

Priscilla looked scandalized that she’d even asked. Disappointment clouded Preston’s face, and Pacifica knew what that meant: a blowout fight was up next, followed by threats of punishment, possibly Pacifica’s grounding, and Pacifica needing to get the hell out of the house and lay low for awhile. She knew this was probably _really_ about something else--her hair, the dirt under her nails, the aforementioned makeup--but it didn’t matter in the moment, really. 

“Seriously, I’m on the fuckin’ edge of my seat here,” she said, just to make them angrier. 

The curse word made Priscilla look like she was slapped. “Because,” Priscilla said. “We _knew_ our someday partner would be rich like us. And that he or she would have gardeners. Landscapers. Flower arrangers. Petal fluffers! So the idea that anyone we’d spend our life with would have done something so pedestrian as to _plant_ something?” She shuddered in a way that said _I_ _took acting classes just because I_ could _._

"To reiterate," she said. “Northwests. Don’t. Do. Our. Own. Gardening.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Involving a golf cart crash, a garden, a rich kid getting a summer job, and a little bit of yearning.

They had barely piled into the golf cart before Mabel blurted, “So, what happened with your parents?”  
Pacifica shrugged. “We just got into a little fight,” she said. “No big deal, really.”  
Mabel didn’t believe her. “A fight about what?”  
“Something about how we’re descended from kings and queens, and not to mingle with the ‘lower classes.’” Pacifica snorted. “It’s all baloney anyway--fresh-cut artisan grass-fed gourmet bologné. We’re not descended from kings and queens, we’re descended from a big loser who got rich by accident.”  
“I remember.” Mabel giggled. “You’re nouveau riche!” she yelled, punching Pacifica lightly in the arm.  
Pacifica giggled too. “Watch it!”  
“You should be classy like us, ye olde non-e rich-e!” Mabel leaned over her to start the golf cart, as if to emphasize her point. Pacifica felt strangely warm as Mabel’s arm brushed hers. “Anyway, are you ready to learn how to drive this baby or not?”  
Pacifica hesitated. “I…” She didn’t know how to say she hadn’t even ridden a bike in years (it was unladylike), let alone tried to drive any sort of vehicle (“That’s why we have drivers, punkin”). “...am!” she lied, badly.  
“Okay, so first you’re going to press down on the pedal as hard as you can,” explained Mabel.  
“As hard as I can? Are you sure?”  
“Just do it!”  
The cart jolted forward and came up to speed. Pacifica just had enough time to yell “NOW what do I do?” before they slammed hard into a tree.  
The girls were thrown forward, fortunately missing the trunk, but the cart absorbed most of the impact. The crash had created an enormous dent directly in the center, and the engine was completely toast.  
“Sorry,” said Mabel cheerily. “I forgot to tell you to steer.”  
But to Pacifica, her voice was foggy, coming from far away. She sat frozen in the driver’s seat, staring at the beat-up cart, eyes occasionally flickering back to Mabel.  
“Pacifica?” Mabel asked. “Paz? P-girl? Hello?” She waved her arm in front of Pacifica’s face.  
“I, um...” Pacifica sat there, shivering. She didn’t usually break things. She was better than that. Sometimes, when she did, nobody cared; after all, her parents had enough money to replace almost anything. But sometimes someone did care, like, it was in front of important guests, or it was a priceless heirloom. And at those times...  
She suddenly became aware that Mabel was worried about her and that she had to say something. “Is everything going to be okay? I think I have enough money to cover the damages.” She fished out a wad of hundreds from her pocket. “And I understand if Stan doesn’t want me coming around anymore, or…”  
Mabel whistled. “Whoa, I don’t think the golf cart is worth that much!” She reached forward to take it, then hesitated. “Paz...I’m not sure if I can accept this. I mean, Soos will probably fix it for...well, for free, if we let him film it. Just don’t worry about it, kay?”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Seriously, no worries!” replied Mabel. She patted Pacifica’s arm reassuringly, then withdrew it too fast. “I’ve broken the golf cart like a gajillion times. If it bothers you that much I’ll just tell Soos and Grunkle Stan I did it. I don’t think they’ll have a hard time believing that!” She laughed.  
Pacifica laughed too. “Hey, Mabel...thank you. I appreciate it.” She sounded almost surprised at her own sincerity. We don’t thank commoners or servants, she could hear her mother’s voice saying, ringing in her ear. She told it, as she had so many times, to shut up.  
Changing was hard. Even getting her hair cut was never something she could have done without knowing she had Soos and the Mystery Shack to hide out in if she needed to. Or...she hated to admit it, but it wasn’t something she could have done if she hadn’t known it was almost summer, and a summer where Mabel would finally be coming back. She had a few other friends who were outside of her parents’ approved debutante circle, cool girls who wore jackets in summer and cut school and laughed with their whole bodies instead of politely behind closed hands. But Mabel was different. Something about the way she guessed (correctly) that Mabel would smile when she saw her new hair had given her that courage. Something about her was different from her other friends.  
With that courage, it was Pacifica, not Mabel, who turned from the wreckage and, shaking like a leaf, marched through the back door and announced dramatically that Soos would be needing a new golf cart.  
“Hey, kid, I don’t deal with that crap anymore, I’m retired,” said Stan, still sitting at the kitchen table. “I think Soos’s in the garden. Go tell him, or someone else who cares.”  
“You guys have a garden?” Pacifica asked.  
“Uh, duh!” chirped Mabel, who had been tagging along behind. “You’ll get to see Ford and Fiddleford’s love squash!” Pacifica immediately had questions, but Mabel was dragging her along by the wrist further away from the Mystery Shack, already chattering about the new episode of Fixin’ It With Soos that they would probably end up filming.  
The garden was a huge mess. Flowers and vegetables grew in uneven rows that made sharp turns or petered out entirely. Climbing plants outgrew their trellises or chicken wire and snaked along the ground. The whole thing was carpeted by weeds in every shape and every shade of green: amaranthus growing as tall as the girls, dandelions in huge clumps covered in potential wishes, wildflowers and finger grasses and one patch that Pacifica thought was almost definitely poison ivy. The Pineses weren’t much for order, it seemed, and since it wasn’t a public-facing area it must have taken Soos until now to start thinking about cleaning it up.  
Idly, Pacifica scanned for anything that looked familiar. Camellias? Daffodils? Tulips, crocuses, chrysanthemums? Nope, nothing. Guess Dipper isn’t my soulmate, she thought. Thank God.  
There was one exception to the chaos: two rows of summer squash, green with promise and neatly labeled. “It’s Fiddleford’s favorite fruit,” explained Mabel, dreamily “and he and Grunkle Ford plant it together so it’ll grow double. Isn’t that dreeeeamy?”  
“Pretty dreamy, yeah,” said Pacifica. “Is squash a fruit?”  
“Technically yes,” said Mabel, and she started to explain, but just then Soos looked up from his weeding--he was making a dent, almost, barely--and came over. “Sup, dudes?” he asked sunnily.  
“Uh…” Mabel tried to be the one to break the news this time, but Pacifica cut in. “Mr. Ramirez, we...sort of reduced your golf cart to a pile of smoldering wreckage.”  
When they reached the ruined cart, Soos cringed, until he saw the look on Pacifica’s face, at which point he smiled a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it, dudes,” he said. Accidents happen. Luckily, I happen to know a handyman.” He turned around in a circle and struck a pose, and posed, brandishing the gardening shears he was holding in one hand and hitting a peace sign with the other. Mabel clapped, which was apparently the response he was hoping for.  
Then he sighed. “It’s just…”  
“Just what?” asked Mabel.  
“Well, no offense, but you dudes banged this thing up pretty good. With the little free time I have between running the Shack and spending time with my beautiful wife and child, it’s gonna take me a couple weeks to fix, at least. And I had kinda hoped to make some headway with...this.” He gestured to the video-game-jungle-level of a garden that surrounded him. “I thought this could be the summer I finally made the garden look nice. I guess it can wait another year.”  
Pacifica suddenly thought of something that would be an excuse to get dirty and gross, let her spend lots of time with her cool summer friend Mabel, AND piss off her parents. “What if...someone else took care of the garden? Y’know, did the weeding and pruning and replanting and whatnot?” She thought of something that would piss her parents off even more. “For a small fee?”  
“Well, that would be pretty convenient,” said Soos thoughtfully. “But where would I find such a person?”  
Pacifica grinned. “You’re lookin’ at her.”  
And so Pacifica Northwest got her first ever summer job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's any confusion: Mabel mostly does her gardening in her own garden, at home, not in Gravity Falls. All the plants Pacifica mentioned are spring flowers. It's summer. 
> 
> Thanks for all the support on Chapter 1! I'm going to continue my goal of posting a new chapter around the same time every month.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pacifica settles into her new job. And totally doesn't have a crush on Mabel.

Pacifica had never worked a day in her life. She’d really never worked a  _ minute _ in her life. It even showed on her body, apparently, as she embarrassingly learned on her first day. 

Mabel’s palm gently grazed the back of her hand as she handed her the old (and a little disgusting) pair of gardening gloves she’d dug out of one of Stan’s drawers, and all of a sudden Mabel was yanking on Pacifica’s hand and excitedly tracing it with her own. “Oh my God, you have, like, the softest hands in the entire world!” she’d yelled. 

Pacifica’s cheeks went hot, for some reason, and she instinctively shrunk back a little, but Mabel was still giddily inspecting her hands. “These babies are baby’s-bottom smooth. Like a baby made out of velvet! I HAVE to know whatlotionyouuseandcanIhavesomeplease????” 

For her part, Mabel had really warm hands, and somehow the chipped two-dollar pink--ahem, PINK-ie Promise!--glitter polish really suited her, Pacifica noticed before realizing that Mabel had asked her a question and was waiting for her answer. “Uh, just my mom’s,” she mumbled. “It’s got gold flakes, truffle oil, artisanal fruits, and I think possibly authentic blood from the British monarchy? But yeah, I--I can lend you some if you want. Why are you even here, anyway?” she added. “Soos said  _ he  _ was going to show me what to do.” 

“Moral support!” Mabel chirped. “It’s your first day, so I thought you could use a cheerleader! Until I get bored, and then I’m going to the mall.” 

She laughed, and Pacifica laughed too. “Fair enough.” 

“Hey, dudes!” Soos’ timing was perfect as always. He greeted Mabel, then left her sitting in a beach chair with a lemonade as he pulled Pacifica aside, taking her under his arm. 

  
“Listen, Pacifica,” he said. “Today’s your first day, so I’m going to supervise you, give you time to learn the ropes. But after that...you’re on your own. This will be the most epic experience you’ve ever had in your life. What happens this summer _will_ make or break you as a person. You’ll be facing down flesh-eating dandelions, defending against enormous fire ants, possibly fighting dragons. And most importantly, we don’t know what lurks within the deepest brambles, but if you catch a glimpse of it, _don’t make eye contact.”_

Pacifica gulped. “Really?” 

Soos laughed heartily. “Nah, I’m just messing with you, dude. It’s just some weeding and some planting. You’ll be fine.” 

It was rough going at first. But what Pacifica lacked in experience and calluses, she made up for in discipline. This was the girl who’d never dream of missing a single 5am ski lesson, let alone a 6am golf lesson or a 7am minigolf lesson. She learned how to not just pull a weed, but dig up the roots so it wouldn’t come back. She learned how deep to plant seeds; Soos showed her in a pot so she wouldn’t be totally blindsided when the weeding was done and it was time to get serious about planting. She even learned how to set up a trellis. 

But as time went on, even as the sweat beaded on her brow and she began to mutter exotic curse words she’d learned from dukes’ daughters abroad, she started to feel bad for the weeds. They didn’t really do anything wrong. They didn’t belong here, sure, and they were getting in the way of the good, helpful flowers and vegetables that Soos and the Pineses wanted to plant. Still ,though, they were just living. All they had done was enjoy the sunshine and the abundant PNW rain. And, yeah, scratch her and poke her and wrestle with her, but then again, that was all they knew how to do. 

As a compromise, at the end of the morning, she took a fistful of dandelion seeds and shoved them in her pocket. “Soos?” she asked. “Do you have any extra pots? I want to plant something at home.”   
“Yeah, sure, but that’s comin’ out of your paycheck, kid!” Soos said, then laughed. “Just kidding. I am on fire today!” He scratched his head. “I’m surprised you want to do more, though. Got the green-thumb bug?” 

“I guess so.”

“Do you need seeds, too? Or are you going to plant some kind of exotic rich-people plant?” 

Pacifica laughed. “Something like that.”

That night, she snapped a picture of the fluffy dandelion seeds poking out of the dirt and sent it to Mabel with the caption “new friends :)”

Mabel replied with a picture of her eye and the caption “girl you know those are weeds right” 

“dont be mean to my new friends :)” replied Pacifica. 

Mabel laughed out loud into her phone. “omg pls tell them i say sorry and i cant wait 2 meet them :O :D :3 uwu” 

Pacifica’s smile faltered a little. She liked the thought of Mabel meeting her plants. The thought of her coming over to the manor again, not so much. Her parents had already been furious with her for coming home dirty. If they knew she was doing  _ work?  _ Hanging out with  _ commoners? _

A slow smile crept across her face. Actually, pissing off her family that much was pretty awesome. The smile didn’t leave as she drifted off to sleep, or at any point over the next week as she settled into her new gardening routine. 

Especially not on the days when Mabel came outside with heart-shaped sunglasses and a lemonade to watch her. 

Pacifica tried not to think about what that meant. It was silly. Mabel was just a friend. A pretty friend. A pretty friend with a diamond smile who always smelled a little like cheap rosy perfume when she hugged her. Whose hands had, in fact, been getting softer since she lent her her mom’s hand lotion. 

Like she said, she tried not to think about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BET YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME! 
> 
> I have good news--I stopped pantsing and actually plotted out the rest of this, so expect more regular updates (chapter 4 might come sooner than planned, as an apology for this chapter being so short). I hope everyone is doing well, dealing with quarantine etc. Also, I'm tender.
> 
> Thanks everyone for the comments!! I can be kind of weird about responding but I really appreciate it, I feel so loved!
> 
> As always thanks to rainbowtubastudios for the beta :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel has a few pretty serious discussions about soulmates with her friends, then notices something interesting growing out of the frame of her bed.

True to her word, when she got bored of watching Pacifica, Mabel usually dipped to go to the mall. On this particular occasion, a little over a week after she was hanging out with Candy and Grenda, and the topic turned, as it often did when Mabel was around, to soulmates. 

“It’s just so unFAIR that Dipper gets so many plants and stuff and I get nothing!” complained Mabel. 

“I’m sorry, Mabel,” said Candy. “I’m just annoyed that  _ my  _ future boyfriend only ever plants me roses. What the heck am I supposed to do with all these roses?!?!”

“Do you guys wanna get pretzels?” asked Grenda. “Man, I love mall pretzels.” 

“I bet the pretzel guy has a TON of stupid flowers and vegetables and everything,” Mabel continued. 

“Maybe he is your soulmate and he just hates plants!” suggested Candy.   
“Then he can’t be my soulmate. I LOOOOOOVE plants! And animals! And flowers!” 

“Flowers are a kind of plant.” 

“Too bad!” 

“I want mustard on my pretzel,” said Grenda. “No. Maybe honey mustard.” 

Mabel turned. “Hey, Grenda…” she started. “You’re always so quiet when we talk about this.” She grinned a Cheshire-cat grin. “What are you hidiiiiiing?” 

“Nothing,” said Grenda. “I’m an open book. And that book is open to Sev’ral Timez fanfiction.” She looked a little uncomfortable, though. 

“Grenda found her soulmate!” Mabel started chanting, egging Candy on to join in. “Grenda found her soulmate! Grenda found her soulmooghf.” 

Grenda had put her hands over the mouths of both Candy and Mabel. She looked upset.

Mabel moved Grenda’s hand away. “Hey, Gren, I’m sorry,” she said, mortified. Was she showing no respect for Grenda because she was...selfish? Had she let her jealousy hurt her friend’s feelings? She knew better than this. She thought she wasn’t that person anymore. Maybe it was being back at the falls, or maybe she’d just always been bad...She felt like she was going to cry, but  _ no no God Mabel that’s making it about you again. _

“I’m sorry too,” said Candy. “We have to talk about it if you don’t want.” 

Grenda spoke, interrupting Mabel’s internal carousel of self-hate. “Let’s just get pretzels,” she said, “and then go sit somewhere quiet so we don’t make a scene.” 

Mabel looked around the mall. They definitely, objectively were not making a scene, but that was probably just because some goth kids  _ were  _ making a scene in front of the Hot Pocket, a store modeled after Hot Topic that only sells pocket squares. 

“If you really loved me, you’d buy me the Jack Skellington pocket square where his blood tears are made of real rubies!” came a wail from one of the goth girls. 

The three got their pretzels--Grenda got hers with honey mustard--and retreated to a more quiet seating area of the mall, next to an enormous fishtank. Mabel was briefly distracted by the fact that one of the fish had three eyes, and made a note to bring Dipper back to the mall. She turned back to Grenda. “So… what’s up?” she asked.

“Only if you want to talk about it,” said Candy. “If not, that is perfectly valid.” Candy had been saying “valid” a lot recently. Grenda joked about how someone should take away her internet access.

Grenda let out a deep sigh. “Yeah. I do, actually. The truth is, guys… I’ve never gotten any signs of having a soulmate either.” 

“Shocked expression!!” said Mabel, making a shocked expression. “Oh Grenda, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were dealing with the same thing as m - ” 

“You didn’t let me finish,” said Grenda. 

“Sorry.” 

“I’ve never gotten any signs of having a soulmate, but…” She paused. “I don’t really want one.”

“Even more shocked expression!” cried Mabel. “You… don’t want one? How is that even possible?”   
“I just mean maybe I don’t have a soulmate, and that’s okay,” said Grenda. “To be honest with you girls, I’ve kind of been dreading it. I mean, look at me. I’ve never really even had a crush on anyone.” 

Candy didn’t seem too surprised by this information. Mabel, however, felt like her eyebrows were going to shoot up so high they’d fly off her face entirely.  
“ _ANYONE?!?_ What about that prince guy you dated in middle school?” Mabel paused. “Or was he a duke or something? I don’t really remember. He wasn’t important after you dumped his ass.” 

“It was mutual,” said Grenda diplomatically, “but back to the matter at hand. I dunno,” she said. “There were definitely times when I’d thought I’d had crushes on guys, but really I just wanted to have boyfriends like all my friends did.”

_ That’s...a thing?  _ thought Mabel.  _ I never knew people could do that. Good thing that’s not me, though, ha ha, _ she added to herself, nervously.

“The truth is, I just like my friends,” continued Grenda. She squeezed Candy and Mabel close to her. “And I sort of dread the idea of giving my whole life up for someone I haven’t even met. So no. I don’t think I have a soulmate. And I hope I don’t, because I don’t want one. I’m just doin’ me.” 

“Huh,” said Mabel. “I never knew that about you, Grenda.” 

“That’s super cool!” said Candy. “I never really thought about it like that. I am happy for you, Grenda!” 

“Me too!” Mabel added. She still didn’t really get it. How could someone not want a soulmate? But Grenda seemed so happy just to be there with her friends and be accepted. “Supportive friend hug!” she said, launching herself into Grenda’s arms and making Grenda spill honey mustard on her hair. 

“I’m also joining in the supportive friend hug!” said Candy, wrapping her arms around Grenda. 

Grenda sniffed, emotional. “You girls are the best.” 

Mabel drove her friends home from the mall in her grunkle’s old beat-up station wagon, blaring bubbly k-pop music and singing along to it at the top of her lungs. Technically at fifteen she wasn’t supposed to drive without an adult in the car, but Stan didn’t really care and promised he’d pay whatever tickets and blackmail whatever judges he needed to as long as he didn’t have to drive her places. When she dropped off Candy, the other girl hesitated. 

“Mabel...I’m glad we got to talk things through with Grenda, but I never really got to finish talking to you,” she said. “Are you going to be okay? With your whole soulmate thing? I know it means a lot to you.” 

“Oh, pshhhhh,” said Mabel. “I’ll be fine. You know old Mabel, always taking everything just fine.” She gave herself a little knock on the noggin as if to demonstrate. 

“Well, okay,” said Candy, “if you’re sure.” She hugged Mabel goodbye anyway. “I’d better go. My mom’s waiting for me. We’re making waffles for dinner tonight!” 

“That sounds awesome! Bye!” Mabel sped back to the Mystery Shack, cranking up the volume of her music. 

On the drive home, she thought about what Grenda had said. Could that be her situation, too? Did she just not have a soulmate? Maybe all those things she planted were going nowhere. She touched her face and was surprised to find tears welling up at the thought.  _ You’re strong, Mabel, _ she thought.  _ You don’t have to cry over not having to deal with some stupid boy.  _ But still, by the time she reached the Mystery Shack, her eyes were red and her face was hot. She was ready to run upstairs and go sit on the bed and do nothing. 

Instead she found-- “Pacifica?!” The other girl looked up from her spot in front of the TV, her legs criscrossed. She was playing video games with Dipper, and apparently winning. 

“Hey, you!” Pacifica greeted her, pausing their game to a resounding “Hey, come on!” from Dipper. “I finished up and I thought maybe we could go to the pool or some--” She saw Mabel’s face, and her own fell. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing!” Mabel smiled and quickly wiped her face. “Nothing. I’m good. I’m fine.” 

“You’re literally crying,” observed Dipper. Pacifica smacked him. “Ow!” 

“If Mabel says she’s fine, she’s fine,” said Pacifica. “Now you stay there and do stinky boy things. Mabel and I are going upstairs and we’re going to have a spa day. Mani, pedi, makeup, the whole nine yards.” 

Mabel smiled. Pacifica always knew how to cheer her up.

“Aren’t you a little old to think boys are stinky?” asked Dipper, rubbing his arm. 

“We’ll never be too old to think YOU’RE stinky!” shouted Mabel.

“And aren’t you wearing makeup and nail polish anyway, Mabel?” 

The girls sighed in unison. “It’s  _ different,”  _ said Mabel. 

As Pacifica stripped the nail polish from Mabel’s hands in their room, she asked, “Seriously Mabs, is everything okay? Do you want to talk?” 

“I don’t know how you even get ‘Mabs’ from ‘Mabel.’ I mean, it’s only one syllable shorter,” pondered Mabel. “But back to the matter at hand. Yeah, everything’s fine! I’m just a little sad about, you know, soulmate stuff.” 

Pacifica delicately applied the acetone to Mabel’s thumbnail. “Soulmate stuff?” 

Mabel sighed. “I don’t want to get into it all again, I just went over it with the girls,” she said, “but, basically, I don’t know if I have a soulmate.” 

Pacifica snorted inadvertently. 

“Uh?” said Mabel.

“Sorry,” Pacifica said, blushing and looking down. “I’m trying not to do that to people anymore. I’m trying to be…” Her voice got quiet. “Nicer.” She raised it again. “But anyway, I just mean I wish I had your problem. I get tons of stuff, but according to my parents, I’m not allowed to have a soulmate.” 

Mabel whistled. “Not...allowed?” 

Pacifica finished with the acetone and took Mabel’s hand again, holding it in hers for a moment before applying the polish, this time Blisterin’ Bright Blue Razzberry Sparklicious!!!!, just $2.99 at the nearest bookstore. Mabel felt her pulse quicken. “Yeah, it sucks. My parents want to give me to some yet-to-be-determined aristocrat dude in an arranged marriage designed to keep the bloodline rich and give a good heir or something.” She rolled her eyes. 

“So?” said Mabel. “You don’t have to do something stupid just because your parents want you to. You should marry who you love.” 

Pacifica smiled. “That’s a really good plan. It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s a really good plan.” She hesitated. “To be honest...it’s not just that I don’t want to marry some aristocrat dude. Some days I’m not sure I want to marry a dude at all.” She looked down, and suddenly withdrew her hand from Mabel’s. “I hope that’s not too weird.” 

“Weird?” Mabel reached back for her hand, then pulled away herself. “Wait, it’s wet, I can’t hold your hand supportively or my polish will get all messed up. But I  _ can  _ do this!” She threw her arms around Pacifica in a bear hug, and heard choking noises, which meant it was a good bear hug. 

“I don’t think you’re weird at all,” she said. “I just had this conversation with Grenda. She doesn’t want to be with anyone either!” 

“Mabel, that’s not exactly what I…” Pacifica trailed off, and just accepted the hug. “Thank you. You’re so sweet.” She could tell her another time, maybe. 

“No matter who you are, or who you do or don’t love, you’ve always got me,” said Mabel. “And you’ve always got the Mystery Shack.”

Now Pacifica was the one who would start to cry.  _ Would,  _ but she quickly bit her lip and took a big swallow, and it was like all her tears magically disappeared. Priscilla had taught her that trick ages ago. “Thanks, Mabel. That means a lot.” 

The rest of their spa day passed without incident. Both of them had a lot of fun using Mabel’s rainbow makeup palette to create crazy looks, and Pacifica walked home with butterflies and flowers all over her face. Her parents were probably going to kill her, but that was okay.

It was only well after she’d left that Mabel noticed the six dandelions growing in an even row out of her bedframe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: coeurire   
> Tumblr: mothbutterfly 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! :) Thanks to rainbowtubastudios and EHaynes for the beta. I think we only have two or three chapters left, but I'm not sure.


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